


Can I Keep Him?

by Gothic_Lolita



Series: Can I Keep Him? [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Crack, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Help, I Don't Even Know, I Promise This Is Not Rape Or Non Con, I'm 200 Percent Done With Myself, M'Baku Being M'Baku, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, OT3, Please Don't Kill Me, Post-Black Panther (2018), Protective T'Challa (Marvel), Shameless Smut, Very Fucking Mild, What Was I Thinking?, does this count as a crack ship?, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:08:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothic_Lolita/pseuds/Gothic_Lolita
Summary: T'Challa promised M'Baku reparations for his help in defending Wakanda's throne. But after M'Baku meets a certain American, he decides he wants different reparations than promised. T'Challa is adamantly against it. At least, until they work out an agreement.





	Can I Keep Him?

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, okay, okay. I... god, I can't even keep a straight face trying to write this, Jesus Christ. Save my soul, please.  
> So, I was going to write T'Challa/Bucky, because I still can't get over the cutscene with Bucky. Then I saw the lack of T'Challa/M'Baku fics (what the hell, fandom?) and decided to change it to that ship, and just have Bucky mentioned in passing. Then I got out of control. Is this a crack ship? Probably. The relationship tags didn't even exist. But you know fucking what? I give zero fucks. Becuase if Everett Ross/Doctor Strange can be a thing (Sherlock fandom, please go away), SO CAN FUCKING THIS, DON'T JUDGE ME OKAY I THINK IT CAME OUT OKAY  
> Oh, there's a sex scene toward the end, but it's not PWP, so like, you gotta wait for it

“I cannot thank you enough for your help in protecting the throne.” T’Challa was walking down the long corridors of the palace with M’Baku on his side.

M’Baku roared with laughter. “It was an act of pity. Look at how scrawny you and your people are, you needed the help.”

T’Challa glanced over at him, eyes narrowed with a faint smirk. “If I remember correctly, I did beat you in a duel, M’Baku.”

“And yet you couldn’t beat some American man-child.” M’Baku scoffed.

“We were evenly matched.” T’Challa tried to defend himself. “I did not wish to harm my own blood.”

“Because you and your people are weak-willed,” M’Baku said, laughing again. T’Challa chose to ignore the comment.

T’Challa walked down the winding walkway into Shuri’s lab, M’Baku close on his heels.

“Why do you have a white man here?” M’Baku’s nose was wrinkled. “And why is he missing an arm? I’ll feed him to my children too if he talks back like the other one.”

Barnes’ eyes flashed with mild alarm, glancing over to T’Challa for an explanation.

“You’re not allowed to eat my patient!” Shuri shouted from the other side of the lab.

“Pay no mind to M’Baku, his words hold no threat, Sergeant Barnes. His people are vegetarian.” T’Challa assured Barnes.

“I told you, it’s just Bucky,” Barnes said, giving a lopsided shrug.

M’Baku made a disgusted noise. “American, too? You chose the most distasteful visitors, King T’Challa.” The title before T’Challa’s name was more condescending than sincere.

T’Challa gave him a mild glare. “You will not speak ill of a man you do not know in a place I promised him sanctuary.” He turned back to Barnes. “Are you comfortable? I hope Shuri has not driven you mad with her antics.” T’Challa asked, holding back a grin at Shuri’s indignant shout.

Barnes actually smiled at that. “I’m fine, thanks. You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“My blind rage drove me to almost killing you for a crime you were innocent of. I can never apologize enough for that.” T’Challa said, falling serious for a moment.

“Almost? Did you lose against the white man too? He only has one arm!” M’Baku interrupted.

T’Challa frowned. “He had both arms when I fought him, his other one was made of metal. And I did not lose.” He tried to defend himself.

“Certainly didn’t win either, your Highness.” Barnes was grinning.

M’Baku roared with laughter. “I like this one. I might take him as reparations.”

“You may not,” T’Challa said. He wasn’t sure how sincere M’Baku was, but he also wasn’t about to take any chances.

M’Baku only made a dismissive noise, ignoring T’Challa in favour of talking to Barnes. “I am M’Baku, of the Jabari Tribe.” He held out his hand.

Barnes timidly accepted the handshake, looking utterly lost. “James Barnes, nice to meet you.” His voice was careful.

“You have a firm grip, white man!” He laughed with approval. “If your name is James why do you insist to be called Bucky?” M’Baku demanded with a frown.

“It’s just a nickname everyone calls me. James always felt too formal.” Barnes shrugged.

“And T’Challa called you Sergeant?” M’Baku asked, seeming to be genuinely curious in Barnes.

Barnes sighed, looking away. “I was a war Sergeant in World War Two.”

M’Baku frowned, looking over at T’Challa. “He does not look that old.”

“I spent most of the time between then and now in cryo.” Barnes shrugged again.

M’Baku looked ready to ask another question, but Shuri came skidding over, holding a staff in her hands. “Shoo, away from my patient.” She scolded both of them. “As promised, in reparation for your help in defending Wakanda’s throne and saving the life of her ruler,” Shuri held out the staff. “I can promise you this has some of the best technologies Wakanda has to offer. It can-”

“I’ve decided I don’t want the staff.” M’Baku interrupted. T’Challa frowned. He didn’t like where M’Baku was going with this. “I want the American.” M’Baku pointed at Barnes.

In any other situation, the look on Barnes’ face might’ve been priceless.

“You may not take him.” T’Challa crossed his arms. “We do not trade human beings as if they were objects.”

“Why not? His people did with ours.” M’Baku argued.

“And we cannot come past such bigotry in history if we are willing to repeat it,” T’Challa growled. “Sergeant Barnes needs medical treatment, and must stay here where we can treat him.”

“He looks fine,” M’Baku said, waving an arm at him. “He’s just missing an arm.” M’Baku’s eyes lit up, and he switched to Wakandan. “ _You wish to keep him for yourself, King, don’t you_?”

T’Challa was taken aback. “ _I do not! His condition is mental, and-_ ” T’Challa said in Wakandan.

M’Baku interrupted him with a roar of laughter. “ _You do_ !” He glanced over to Barnes again. “ _I do not blame you. He is a pretty one._ ”

“ _He is a human being whom I will not let be traded as war reparations._ ” T’Challa hoped his voice was final.

“ _He would like it in the mountains! I would give him the best treatment. My pet shall not be treated poorly_.” M’Baku folded his arms.

T’Challa could feel a headache coming on. “ _He is in an unstable mental condition and requires treatment that your people do not possess_!”

“ _I can get him a therapist_.” M’Baku waved him off.

“ _He needs more than a therapist_ ,” T’Challa said, reminding himself that Shuri would be furious if they got into a fight in her lab.

M’Baku huffed. “ _What does he need that is so important, then? What did you do to my pet?_ ”

T’Challa glowered at M’Baku. “ _He is not your pet, and I did not do a thing! I’m trying to help him. An organization called_ HYDRA _brainwashed him to make him their weapon. I’m trying to undo the mental programming so the codewords will no longer work on him and send him into an inhumane state of following orders._ ”

Both T’Challa and M’Baku seemed to noticed Barnes’ flinch at the name of HYDRA, and how his demeanour switched from confused and concerned to afraid and ready to run. He was already looking around, seeming to be mapping out escape routes. T’Challa gave M’Baku a ‘see?’ look.

“ _I can protect him from these people, make sure they can’t get to him to use the codewords_ .” M’Baku insisted. “ _You just scare him with talk of it. Look at him, he’s like a frightened animal, poor thing_.” M’Baku actually sounded sorry, like he genuinely cared and took a liking to Barnes.

“ _You made me say it_!” T’Challa frowned, now somehow in the defence of the argument.

Barnes turned to Shuri and from the looks of it, asked her a question in what T’Challa thought was Russian. T’Challa cursed himself for not learning the language when Shuri replied in Russian, and the two started having a conversation, occasionally glancing T’Challa and M’Baku.

M’Baku watched them as well. “ _Do you know what they are saying_?”

“ _I don’t speak Russian_.” T’Challa shrugged.

“ _Russian? I like him even more, he’s smart_ .” M’Baku said. “ _I’m taking him now_.” M’Baku walked forward and before anyone could say something, he picked Barnes up, throwing him over his shoulder.

Barnes let out a string of curses in several languages before a swift flash a movement had him back on the ground and M’Baku flying halfway across the lab.

“My lab!” Shuri shrieked, switching back to English. She to pick up all the things M’Baku’s flight had knocked over.

M’Baku pushed himself to his feet, though he was laughing so hard he almost staggered to his knees again. “He can fight! Even with only one arm! I love him! Are you sure I can’t keep him?”

“Positive.” T’Challa folded his arms. “Take the staff, and leave.”

M’Baku studied T’Challa, then turned to Barnes. “He wants to keep you for himself. I don’t blame him.” He declared, brushing himself off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Barnes scowled, going to fold his arms, then realizing he only had one arm to fold, and it was pointless.

“It means M’Baku is a selfish man who is trying to deflect the blame,” T’Challa said, but his cheeks were so hot he doubted Barnes believed it.

Barnes rolled his eyes. “Did it ever occur to either of you to bothering asking me what I think?” He asked, blowing a piece of hair out of his face.

M’Baku and T’Challa both fell silent.

“Of course. And they say Wakanda is civil and peaceful.” Barnes huffed. “Because I’d rather not be kidnapped by someone who is way too big to be a normal human being -seriously, what the hell drugs did they give you as a kid?- but I’d also like to stay here and I don’t really dislike either of you, so what if we worked out something?”

M’Baku’s eyebrows went up with interest. “I think he’s proposing we share him.”

T’Challa looked to Barnes for confirmation. Barnes only smiled and shrugged.

“If I am to agree, firstly, he is not to leave Wakanda’s mainlands. You must come here to visit him.” T’Challa started. “Secondly, you must ask him before deciding what you want to do with him. He is not your pet. And thirdly, you must remember we are sharing him. You can’t just come in and drag him away from me whenever you wish.”

M’Baku considered it. “Agreed. Almost. If he wishes to visit me, he must be allowed.”

“Fine.” T’Challa sighed. “Are we in agreement? All three of us?” Barnes and M’Baku nodded. “Good. It is settled then.”

“Good,” M’Baku said. “I still want the staff though.” He grabbed it from where it was leaning against the wall. “We are even, Your Majesty.” He faced Barnes. “You, come with me. I know exactly what I want to do to you first.” His grin was predatory, voice suggestive.

“Hey! We’re sharing him.” T’Challa scowled.

M’Baku smirked. “And you said you didn’t want him. Fine then. Lead the way to your quarters. We’ll share him the first time.”

“Fine. Come.” T’Challa sighed, waving for both of them to follow him. “I’ll come back to talk to you about Sergeant Barnes’ treatment, Shuri,” T’Challa called out to his sister, who was still cleaning up the mess. She only flipped him the bird as they left, making M’Baku laugh.

“The princess has an attitude,” M’Baku said with mild amusement.

“And if we’re going t’ do what I think we are, quit callin’ me by my last name.” Barnes scowled.

“I’m not going to call you Bucky.” T’Challa wrinkled his nose.

“Then at least call me James.” He sighed.

“I like James.” M’Baku’s grin was wolfish. T’Challa nodded in agreement.

T’Challa led them into his private quarters. They passed a few of the Dora Milaje guarding the doors, including Okoye. Okoye had a slight frown at the trio, but she smiled at James. T’Challa had no idea why, but the two had formed a bond, which was admittedly terrifying, as they were two of the most dangerous people T’Challa knew.

“Dismissed. We can handle ourselves.” T’Challa waved them away. The last thing he wanted was Okoye hearing them. It was bad enough Shuri would tell her, and Nakia, and probably everyone else.

Okoye nodded and took the Dora Milaje with her as they left the three.

T’Challa led them up the winding walkway to his bedroom part of the quarters. As soon as they were by the bed, T’Challa grabbed James and kissed him, hard.

James was startled, but got with the program and started to kiss back. His mouth tasted of Wakandan fruit and his lips were sinfully soft. T’Challa pulled away, going to take off his own top.

“Who said you were allowed to make the first move?” M’Baku huffed, ripping James’ shirt right off of him.

“I’m the king. I make the rules.” T’Challa smirked.

M’Baku huffed but spun James around to get his own kiss. T’Challa had to admit, he did enjoy watching them kiss, even if M’Baku was more possessive and rough than T’Challa would ever be. M’Baku picked up James and tossed him onto the bed.

“I like him more every second,” M’Baku said, sliding out of his own clothes. Furs and leather and cotton alike were tossed to the ground as T’Challa and M’Baku stripped. James watched both of them, eyes blown wide with lust.

T’Challa was the first to get naked and climb onto the bed with James, quickly followed by M’Baku on James’ other side

“Looks like the little kitten isn’t little in all places.” M’Baku taunted, eyes flickering with amusement. James actually snickers at that. T’Challa glares at both of them.

“I bed the most intolerable of men,” T’Challa said with a huff.

M’Baku shrugged. “You’re always welcome to leave. I’m more than willing to handle my beautiful James by myself.”

“I most certainly will not.” T’Challa objected. “And he is our beautiful James.”

“Would you two shut up and kiss already?” James’ voice was bored, and heavy with his Brooklyn drawl.

T’Challa was about to argue that he most certainly did not want to kiss M’Baku and only wanted James when M’Baku’s strong hand grabbed the back of his neck and yanked him forward.

The kiss was surprisingly nice. M’Baku, despite being rough, was a decent kisser.

“‘Bout damn time,” James said. “Now will someone take my pants off? Hard t’ do with one arm.”

T’Challa tore them off with as much urgency as M’Baku had with his shirt, tearing them in the process. He paused a moment to stare at James, enjoying the sight of him naked.

“You guys keep that up n’ I won’t have any clothes left,” James grumbled.

“Maybe that’s the point, little one.” M’Baku purred in his ear.

James rolled his eyes. “So how are we gonna do this?”

T’Challa thought a moment. “Take turns?” He asked M’Baku.

M’Baku sat up, pulling James with him so that they were all sitting on the bed, James in the middle. “Sounds good.” He decided, kissing James’ neck, who tilted his head to the side to give M’Baku more room.

“I’ll go first.” T’Challa grabbed lube from under his pillow. Because, as he loathed to admit it, T’Challa was smaller than M’Baku, and he didn’t want to hurt James. M’Baku hummed in agreement, already running his hands over James’ chest.

T’Challa drizzled some lube over his fingers. “Spread your legs for me, darling.” James let out a soft sigh, lifting his hips as he spread his legs. He was practically in M’Baku’s lap, leaning against him.

T’Challa was slow and patient, sliding one finger in at a time. James let out the occasional uncomfortable sound, but with M’Baku’s hands fondling his package, most of his moans were of pleasure.

“Fuck!” James’ back arched when T’Challa was three fingers in and brushed his prostate. Precum dripped onto M’Baku’s fingers.

“If you don’t hurry up, I’m going to fuck him first,” M’Baku warned, squeezing James’ balls. James’ cried out, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“I think he likes that.” T’Challa chuckled, pulling out his fingers. He rubbed some lube on himself and lined up. “Ready, love?” T’Challa gave James a quick kiss.

“Yes, fucking hell, just fuck me already,” James demanded, voice breathless.

M’Baku laughed. “Needy one, aren’t you?” He squeezed James’ balls again, harder.

The moan that came out of James was music. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna come.” He gasped, starting to squirm.

T’Challa choose that moment to push in when James was distracted. He couldn’t help a moan, wrapped in a velvety warmth. He held still a moment, letting James get used to the feeling.

“Shit, shit.” James gasped. “Just… move, damnit, shit, fucking hell, move.”

T’Challa had to hold in a groan of relief at hearing that, setting a slow rhythm.

James whined, letting his head fall back to rest on M’Baku’s shoulder. T’Challa leans forward to kiss M’Baku, resting his hands on James’ hips. M’Baku accepts the kiss, letting one hand drift over to hold T’Challa’s shoulder.

T’Challa picks up his pace until they’re making the bed shake. James is a mess, shaking and moaning. He met every thrust with a lift of his hips.

“Look at him, he makes such a good bitch.” M’Baku purred, corkscrewing James’ cock in his hand.

James shrieked. “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, harder, I need-I need to-ah!”

T’Challa sped up, chasing his own orgasm. He let out breathy moans, digging his fingers into James’ hips. He was almost there if he could just-

M’Baku’s hand trailed over to twist T’Challa’s nipple, and he was gone.

“I’m coming!” T’Challa said, and with a final thrust, he was. T’Challa couldn’t think, wasn’t even sure if he was breathing when the pleasure hit. His vision exploded into a field of white, limbs shaking. He was vaguely aware of James tightening around him and moaning in front of him.

When T’Challa could string together coherent thoughts, he noticed that James had come too and was practically boneless in M’Baku’s arms. T’Challa kissed James again, enjoying the post-orgasm haze, burying his fingers in long brown hair.

When T’Challa finally pulled away he sprawled out on the bed, staring at M’Baku and James. James was already starting to get hard again, starting to squirm impatiently in M’Baku’s arms.

“What? You just plan on enjoyin’ the show?” James asked, smirking a bit. T’Challa propped his head up on his elbow, nodding.

“Good, I get him all to myself, then.” M’Baku rumbled, grabbing James’ chin so he could turn his head and kiss him. He went back to leisurely jerking James off.

“Then get on with it, would you?” James drawled,

“So impatient, little one,” M’Baku said, slapping James’ thigh. James growled but didn’t say anything. M’Baku lifted James up, lining up, then slowly lowering him down on M’Baku’s cock.

“Fuck! How the hell are you so big?” James hissed when he was seated.

M’Baku laughed, then started to thrust. James’ eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went limp, giving into the pleasure.

M’Baku was animalistic in fucking James, hard and fast. He was clearly already close from just watching T’Challa fuck him, and was holding off his orgasm to enjoy it longer. T’Challa was too spent to try and get in another orgasm, instead choosing to just watch and enjoy the sight of the two beautiful men fucking.

After a few minutes, James’s panting sped up, and he reached for his dick. “I’m close, I need-”

M’Baku snarled and pinned James’ arm behind his back. T’Challa knew well enough that James was stronger than M’Baku and could break free, but T’Challa figured he just didn’t want to.

“You come on my dick, or not at all,” M’Baku growled in his ear, fucking harder into James.

James swore, legs shaking. “Please, please, I need… oh god, I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna… shit, I’m coming!” James screamed, head thrown back and back arched. It was a beautiful sight, watching him paint his own abs with come.

M’Baku roared, then his movements still, and he was coming as well.

After they’d both come down from their highs, M’Baku pulled out and laid James down beside T’Challa, then collapsed onto the bed on James’ other side.

There was a moment of silence.

“I made him come untouched.” M’Baku boasted, grinning. And yes, T’Challa might’ve been getting a bit more used to that smile.

“You were rougher with him! I did not know he liked it rough!”

“Look at him! He’s made for rough sex!”

“He’s been through seventy years of torture! I wanted to be gentle.”

“You said you tried to kill him before.”

“I thought he killed my father.”

“You two are gonna be the death ‘f me,” James whined, grabbing a pillow and covering his head with it.

“He started it.” T’Challa huffed.

James groaned. “Why did I agree to this? And why did you both have to come in my ass? It’s a bitch to have to clean out.”

“You make it sound like you’ve had to before.” T’Challa arched an eyebrow with mild bemusement.

James rolled his eyes. “I lived in a place known for gay activity, back in the 30s, in my old apartment in Brooklyn. ‘Course I’ve done it before.” He deadpanned. M’Baku snickered.

“I like this one. He’s tolerable, for a white man.” M’Baku said, kissing James’ temple/

“Isn’t that reverse racism?” James frowned.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” T’Challa said, waving it aside. “It’s just the way M’Baku is.”

James nodded slowly. “I see.” He sighed. “I’m going to regret agreeing to this, aren’t I? And if Stevie finds out, he’ll try to decapitate you both.” He warned.

“Captain Rogers is protective of you, and I respect that, but he must respect your decisions,” T’Challa said.

“It wasn’t exactly a decision.” James frowned. “I got dragged into this.”

T’Challa chuckled. “We’ll leave that part out, then.” M’Baku laughed and nodded. T’Challa rolled over and wrapped an arm around James’ waist, kissing his forehead.

M’Baku huffed and wrapped his arm around James as well, kissing his jaw.

James rolled his eyes. “I’m taking a nap. Please don’t rip me in half while I’m sleeping.”

M’Baku shrugged. “I make no promises.”

T’Challa laughed. “Nor do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> What the actual hell is wrong with me. I just... I just wanted to write a fic with some M'Baku. I meant for none of this to happen. Please don't kill me. I'm gonna go climb in a dumpster now becAUSE I BELONG WITH THE TRASH  
> I'm actually crying, I can't breath oh my gosh, someone please tell me if this is as bad as I think it is.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Get a Handle on Myself](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13924968) by [MarvelouslyMadMM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarvelouslyMadMM/pseuds/MarvelouslyMadMM)




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